


It's All Fine

by linksofmemories



Series: The Rory to My Amy [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 08:37:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linksofmemories/pseuds/linksofmemories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek woke up on his 30th birthday feeling exactly the same as he did on his 29th birthday and his 28th birthday and his 27th birthday and his 26th birthday. Nothing felt any different, except that his age now started with a “3” instead of a “2”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All Fine

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read the rest of the series this isn't going to make any sense. So, you should read the rest of the series.

Derek woke up on his 30th birthday feeling exactly the same as he did on his 29th birthday and his 28th birthday and his 27th birthday and his 26th birthday. Nothing felt any different, except that his age now started with a “3” instead of a “2”. He looked the same, he had the same job, and there was the same presence of a warm body pressed against him.

He looked at Stiles whose face was pressed against Derek’s neck with an arm and a leg thrown over Derek. Stiles would always be the same Stiles with the same sleeping habits.

Derek brought up a hand to run through Stiles’ brown hair, pressing his lips to the younger man’s temple.

“Why aren’t you at school?” he asked.

It was 11:15 AM on a Wednesday and Stiles was supposed to be teaching.

“I called in sick last night when you were working with Laura,” Stiles mumbled, pressing himself closer to Derek. “It’s your birthday and I want to spend the entire day with you.”

“Stiles, you really didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

“What if we go out later and one of your colleagues sees that you’re perfectly well?”

“We’re not going to go out,” Stiles said. “I told them that I would probably be in bed all day and I intend to do just that.”

“Oh really?” Derek asked, not even hiding the grin that spread across his face.

“Yep, it’s just you and me and this bed,” Stiles said. “Well, and the toilet and the shower and the refrigerator. Okay, so it’s me, you, and the house, but we’re focusing on the bed.”

“Eloquently put.”

“Shut up.”

Derek just leaned forward in response, grabbing Stiles’ face with one hand and kissing him. Over the years they had practically perfected the art of moving their lips against each other’s. They both knew what the other one liked and had got it down to a science of what the perfect kiss was.

It was so ridiculously easy for Stiles to make Derek’s head spin and he knew that he had the same effect on him. With just the right flick of his tongue and a little bit of teeth, Derek could make Stiles moan and sigh and hold onto him like he was afraid of falling.

Kissing Stiles was intoxicating and slow and wet and lazy and perfect. Derek could do it for hours and never be satisfied with the kiss alone, it was ridiculous, but true. Kissing for most couples was just something that happened every day. And though it was something that happened every day for them as well, it felt sacred in its own weird way.

Maybe it had to do with no one but Derek ever kissing Stiles. This did nothing to diminish his possessiveness of Stiles, but it also just made him happy. The fact that Stiles had never wanted anyone but Derek was something that had worried Derek at first. But Scott and Allison had never been with anyone else but each other and the same thing, surprisingly, went for Lydia and Jackson as well.

Stiles chose at that moment to pry his lips away from Derek’s. “Fuck, Derek I need to breathe.”

“Then breathe through your nose,” Derek said, leaning in for another kiss, only to be stopped by Stiles pressing his hand against his mouth.

“We have all day, Der, just slow down,” Stiles said, laughing and turning onto his back.

“I know,” Derek said, rolling himself on top of Stiles who just rolled his eyes. “But you’re very distracting.”

“You’re one to talk,” Stiles said, running a hand up and down Derek’s back. “You’re 30 and you’re not even fat.”

“What?”

“You’re 30, Derek,” Stiles huffed, looking at Derek’s bare torso. “I thought you’d be fat by now.”

“You don’t like my six pack?” Derek teased, kissing across Stiles’ jaw.

“More like an eight pack,” Stiles grumbled, fingers running across Derek’s abs. “You’re going to be an 80 year-old with an eight pack and I’ll be a 73 year-old who’s so skinny that my skin will be hanging off of my bones.”

Stiles wasn’t by any means skinny. All during college he stayed on the track team and even in grad school and while teaching he still found time to keep in shape. He was gorgeous and so completely unaware that it frustrated Derek at times.

“I’m an old man, Stiles,” Derek said.

“No, you’re not,” Stiles said, threading a hand through Derek’s dark hair.

“Compared to you I am,” Derek said. “You’re still 23 and I-.”

“No,” Stiles said, clamping a hand over Derek’s mouth. “Nonononononono. You wanna hear it in Spanish? _No_.”

Since Stiles still had his hand over Derek’s mouth, Derek just raised an eyebrow and Stiles sighed.

“Don’t start this again,” Stiles said. “This happens every single time on your birthday. ‘Stiles, you’re so young and I’m so old.’ You do realize that we’re always going to be 6 ½ years apart, don’t you? And sure, it was a big deal when I was 17, but now it doesn’t even matter. I’ve never cared about your age, Derek. I’ve only ever cared about you.”

Derek grabbed Stiles’ wrist and took his hand from his mouth. “You do realize that that was a very corny statement you just made there, don’t you?”

“I realized it as soon as I said it,” Stiles said before pushing against Derek’s chest. “Now get off of me and lie back and let me work my magic.”

“‘Work your magic’?” Derek asked, doing what was told and rolling off of Stiles and onto his back.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, kneeling in front of Derek on the bed. “Birthday Blowjob. I’ve only been doing this for the past five years.”

“‘Birthday Blowjob’?” Derek asked, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“I always give you a blowjob on your birthday.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you had a name for them.”

Stiles just shook his head, hooking his fingers on the band on Derek’s briefs and sliding them down his legs. Derek obliged, unable to get rid of the grin on his face. Stiles was unbelievable. Ridiculously, truly, and sometimes kind of stupidly unbelievable.

“You don’t have to,” Derek said, even though Stiles was already encircling a hand around Derek’s cock and stroking him.

“I want to, you idiot,” Stiles said, leaning forward to kiss Derek.

Derek cupped the back of Stiles’ neck with one hand while the other slid under his pajama pants, palming at the warm flesh. Their tongues tangled together as Stiles continued to jerk him off, his grip getting tighter and his pace getting faster.

“Fuck,” Derek hissed when Stiles ran a thumb over Derek’s head.

Stiles smiled into their kiss, continuing to work Derek. “Well, at least your dick still works, Old Man.”

“Shut up,” Derek said, gripping Stiles’ ass tighter in his hand.

The smile remained on Stiles’ face though as he moved his lips to Derek’s neck, nipping slightly as he worked his way down. He eventually reached Derek’s chest and latched onto a nipple, sucking. Derek inhaled sharply, little pricks of pleasure making their way to his cock.

Over the five years (to that morning, actually) of them having sex, it was safe to say that Derek had remained the same skill-wise, and that Stiles had made a lot of progress. He was no longer adamant about anything nor did he let Derek have complete control (something that Derek found himself missing some days). Stiles was confident and skillful and he knew exactly what to do to turn Derek into a complete mess.

They had tried practically everything (aside from any pain/blood and, Derek still had a hard time thinking about it, watersports) and everything had been great. Even though Derek had had several different partners in the past and Stiles had only ever been with him, it still made every single time the best sex Derek had ever had. No one and nothing compared to Stiles and he knew, without a doubt, that it was because of how much he cared about Stiles and how he trusted him completely.

“Derek, I’m about to give you the blowjob of your life and you’re zoning out.”

Derek quickly came out of his thoughts and looked to Stiles who was looking at him with his chin on Derek’s chest.

“I was thinking,” Derek said, running a hand through Stiles’ hair. “Continue.”

Stiles made a face, definitely not too happy about being bossed around. “You don’t seem like you’re very into it.”

“I was reminiscing, Stiles,” Derek said, moving his hand to Stiles’ cheek and pressing his thumb against his mouth. “That’s what old people do.”

“You’re not old,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes.

“I was joking,” Derek said, sitting up. “And I think I’m going to take a rain check on that blowjob.”

“Why?” Stiles asked.

“I have something else in mind,” Derek said, making a pile of pillows against the headboard so he could sit with his back against them. “Come here.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow before moving toward Derek at the head of the bed, only to be turned around when he got there so that his back was against Derek’s chest. “This better be super kinky and super awesome.”

“Stiles, this is round one of birthday sex,” Derek said, sliding his hand across Stiles’ bare stomach. “Of course it’s going to be. Do you remember what happened on your birthday?”

They had broken a table and Lydia had to order a replica for them while giving them both dirty looks. It had been worth it.

“Good times,” Stiles hummed, leaning back against Derek. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Making it up as I go along.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Derek smirked before pushing down Stiles’ pajama pants and watching as Stiles kicked them onto the floor when they got trapped around his ankles. “So, now that we’re naked, what’s the plan?”

“Haven’t figured that out yet,” Derek said, clasping his hand around one of Stiles’ wrists. “I want you hard before we do anything though.”

“I’m hard,” Stiles said.

“You’re not exactly where I want you though,” Derek said, guiding Stiles’ hand up to his chest.

“Such a control freak,” Stiles muttered, head tilting down as he watched Derek moving his hand. “What are you even doing?”

“I’m getting you to touch yourself how I want you to touch yourself,” Derek said, shrugging.

Derek took two of Stiles’ fingers between his own and pinched them around one of Stiles’ nipples, before pulling slightly. Stiles made a sharp hum and Derek rested his chin on Stiles’ shoulder to look at him. His teeth were digging into his bottom lip and his face was red as he looked down at his chest.

“Are you embarrassed?” Derek asked, making Stiles tug on the nub again.

“No,” Stiles said quickly. “This is just… different. You’ve told me how to touch myself before but this is…”

“Different?” Derek prompted, taking Stiles’ free hand in his own.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded.

“Good,” Derek said, bringing Stiles’ hand over to give attention to his other nipple.

While one hand worked on rolling a nub between the pad of fingers, Derek brought the free one to circle around Stiles’ cock. Stiles let out a low moan, hips bucking slightly as Derek moved Stiles hand up and down his length.

“God, you’re eager,” Derek said.

“Always am.”

Stiles tried to move his hand faster on his cock, but Derek squeezed tightly, making Stiles let out a groan of protest. “My birthday, my rules. But if you want to go faster, I guess I can oblige.”

Derek moved the hand that was still on Stiles’ chest down to cup his balls. Stiles’ breath hitched and he tried to move away, but Derek started jerking him off again.

“If you want to come, I’ll make you come,” Derek said, making Stiles fondle his balls with one hand.

There were a few seconds of Stiles trying to resist, trying to not move his hands, but soon he was melting into it. He sagged against Derek and tilted his head back onto his shoulder. Derek looked at him with his flushed face and parted lips and dark eyes.

He felt his mouth twitch up into a smile before he increased the pace he had on Stiles’ cock. At first it was leisurely, but now it was more moderate, a steady pace that they had both become accustomed to over the years.

“Fuck,” Stiles breathed, bucking up into his own hand that was still being controlled by Derek. “Why haven’t we done this before?”

Derek didn’t have a good answer for that. He increased the speed of the hand and Stiles groaned, eyes finally squeezing shut. The pace now was just short of brutal, jack rabbiting up and down Stiles’ cock. Derek pressed his lips into Stiles’ hair as Stiles whined (and Derek knew that he was going to deny that later) and dug his heels into the mattress.

All it took was for Derek to give a tender squeeze to Stiles’ balls before Stiles was coming all over their hands, panting loudly and head bending forward. Derek kissed the back of Stiles’ neck and continued to jack Stiles off.

“Derek stop,” Stiles panted.

He complied, bringing both of Stiles’ hands up to rest on his stomach. Stiles leaned against back against Derek again, trying to pry his hands from his grasp.

“Not done yet,” Derek said.

“Oh fuck,” Stiles sighed. “What else?”

Derek had an answer for that, but chose not to vocally give it. “Open your mouth.”

“When is it ever closed?” Stiles asked, still breathing heavily.

Chuckling, Derek brought two of Stiles’ fingers up to his mouth and was pleased when Stiles closed his mouth around them.

“Good boy,” Derek muttered, taking Stiles’ free hand and bringing it around to run along Stiles’ crack.

Stiles groaned around his fingers, but Derek just kissed his temple, running Stiles’ fingers over his hole. He took the fingers from Stiles’ mouth and moved them into his own. He closed his lips around them and ran his tongue along each finger, flicking his eyes over to look at Stiles.

“So fuckin’ hot,” Stiles breathed as he watched Derek.

Derek had a hold on Stiles’ wrist, so he pulled it back, his fingers slipping from his mouth. Stiles leaned toward him and all but shoved his tongue past Derek’s lips. Derek didn’t allow the kiss to go as smoothly as Stiles had probably planned, he nipped at Stiles’ lips before sucking on Stiles’ tongue. After that it was mostly just them smashing their mouths together in a clash of tongues and teeth and it was fucking filthy.

This served as the perfection distraction to replace Stiles’ dry fingers with the ones slicked in both of their spit. Stiles let out a low moan and Derek parted from him, pressing their foreheads together.

“Do you want me to get the lube?” he asked.

“No,” Stiles breathed, shaking his head. “It’s fine. When you fuck me you better use lube though.”

“How are you so sure that I’m going to fuck you?” Derek asked, already pressing one of Stiles’ fingers inside of himself.

“Because I know you,” Stiles said, his voice sounding like one low groan as he pressed back against the finger.

And that he did. There was no way this was going to end with Derek not fucking Stiles. Fucking Stiles was the highlight of every time they had sex. It was always so warm and wet and tight and soft inside of Stiles. Derek loved being inside of him, feeling Stiles pulse around him and listening as he always made the most obscene noises.

Derek worked the second of Stiles’ fingers into his ass and Stiles took it beautifully. Two were worked into the very last knuckle, just resting inside of Stiles, waiting for Derek’s instruction.

“Crook your fingers, you know where,” Derek ordered, talking directly into Stiles’ ear.

Stiles did as instructed and his mouth fell even more open, hips moving back onto his hand. Derek looked down briefly to see that Stiles was starting to get hard again.

“And again,” Derek said, latching onto Stiles’ earlobe.

“Fuck, _Derek_ ,” Stiles panted, head falling back.

“One more time.”

This time a crooning noise escaped from Stiles, his breath coming out in pants and his chest practically heaving.

“Do you want me to fuck you now?” Derek asked, placing his hands on Stiles’ hips.

“Yes,” Stiles said, nodding.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I want you to fuck me, do it,” Stiles panted.

Derek smirked, leaning over to his nightstand and opening it to get out a bottle of lube. He grabbed Stiles’ wrist and pulled his fingers out of himself, kissing the side of his neck as Stiles reached back to grab Derek’s thigh.

“You want my fingers first?” Derek asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles said.

“On your knees,” Derek said, placing his hands on Stiles’ shoulders and moving him up.

“Hands and knees or just knees?” Stiles asked, moving away from Derek.

“Just knees.”

Stiles nodded and got on his knees, looking over his shoulder at Derek. Derek poured lube onto two of his fingers before gripping Stiles’ hip and slipping the fingers inside. Stiles let out a low moan and tried his best to look down at Derek who was scissoring him open. Derek spread out his fingers and curled them and worked them in and out of Stiles before slipping a third one inside.

“Just fuck me already,” Stiles groaned.

“You sure?” Derek asked, leaning forehead to press a kiss to the base of Stiles’ spine. “Maybe I need to stretch you out more.”

“If you stretch me out anymore I’ll punch you.”

Well, Derek wasn’t going to argue with that. He took his fingers out of Stiles and grabbed the bottle of lube and poured more onto his hand before lubing up his cock. Once he was satisfied, he leaned back against the pile of pillows and dragged Stiles with him.

The tip of his cock was pressing against Stiles’ hole and Stiles groaned. Derek grabbed his hips tightly before pulling him down, sheathing himself inside of Stiles.

“Fuck!” Stiles yelped, pressing his back against Derek’s chest and panting. “A little warning next time.”

Derek would have apologized, but he was a bit incoherent at that moment. Stiles was holding him so tightly and words were failing him completely. One hand remained on Stiles’ hip while the other came diagonally up Stiles’ chest, gripping his left shoulder.

Stiles turned his torso sideways and draped an arm across Derek’s shoulders, turning his head so that he could kiss him. Derek returned the kiss whole heartedly, hands now both on Stiles’ hips again so that he could move him up and down.

Derek didn’t have to move Stiles though, since he was fucking himself on Derek’s cock. Derek just had to meet him halfway with his hips and the familiar sounds of slick flesh slapping against each other came into the room. They settled into an easy rhythm, refusing to separate their mouths from each other.

The easy rhythm wasn’t enough, and even though Derek could feel his release creeping up on him, this wasn’t going to make him fall over the edge. He wanted to make Stiles come before making any changes in their position, so he tightening his grip on Stiles’ hips and started to piston himself into him.

“ _Fuck_!” Stiles gasped, his lips finally breaking away from Derek’s.

Derek reached around to grab Stiles’ cock and started to jerk him, continuing his relentless pace inside of the younger man. The sounds that Stiles were making were driving him absolutely insane, so he knew that he was probably hitting that spot inside of Stiles more often than not. All it took was a few more strokes before Stiles was once again coming onto Derek’s hand.

Without a word of warning, Derek slipped out of Stiles before pressing him down onto the mattress and reentering him. Stiles let out a soft whine of protest and Derek waited to see if Stiles would use the safe word or not.

“Are you going to finish or not?” Stiles asked, sounding tired and absolutely wrecked.

Derek pressed a kiss to the knob of his spine before he started thrusting back into Stiles. Stiles’ hands balled around sheets as he squeezed his eyes shut, but Derek was too gone to even take proper notice. Stiles was more relaxed from his orgasm, but just as tight since his body was starting to reject Derek, he was close though and with a last, deep thrust, he was coming inside of Stiles, panting heavily.

Eventually Derek came down from his high so that he could slip out of Stiles. He ran a hand through Stiles’ damp hair and pressed kisses against the tattoo on the back of his shoulder.

“Morning sex is the best,” Stiles mumbled into the mattress. “We’ve tried afternoon and evening and night sex and they’re all great. But, fuck, the things we do in the morning are perfect.”

“It’s probably because the first time we had sex was in the morning,” Derek said, continuing to kiss Stiles’ sweat slicked skin, making his way down his back.

“True,” Stiles said. “Five years ago to the day actually. Happy birthday, Der.”

“Thanks,” Derek said, reaching Stiles’ cheeks and spreading them apart.

Stiles groaned in frustration, but didn’t say anything or try to move away. Derek’s cum was starting to escape from Stiles’ hole. He focused on it for a few seconds before leaning down and lapping his tongue against it.

“Seriously?” Stiles asked, his toes curling.

Derek ignored him, sinking his tongue into Stiles’ wet heat and enjoying the little whimpers that Stiles was making. He tasted so good like this: wet and used and so utterly _Derek’s_. Right at Stiles’ center, his most intimate part, and it was all drenched in Derek, it all belonged to Derek.

He delved his tongue deeper inside of Stiles, licking shallowly inside of him. Stiles was panting now, hands fisting the sheets and his teeth were worrying his bottom lip. Derek continued though, circling the rim of his used hole and kneading the pale cheeks in his hands. He was just slipping his tongue back inside of Stiles when he spoke up.

“Fuck, stop,” Stiles panted. “Shit, Pandorica, Pandorica. Derek, just-.”

Derek instantly moved away from Stiles, moving up his body to nuzzle his neck and hands coming to rub his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I took it too far.”

“No,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “It was good, it was just too much. You can rim me or felch me or whatever later. You just really wear me out.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek repeated, kissing Stiles’ neck.

“Stop apologizing,” Stiles said. “I feel really fucking awesome right now and after I eat and relax for a bit I’ll be up for round two of birthday sex.”

“Then why don’t you take a shower and get dressed and I’ll make breakfast,” Derek proposed.

“It’s your birthday, you shouldn’t cook,” Stiles protested. “And why would I bother with getting dressed?”

“I want to cook for my sexed-out fiancé and I’m making eggs,” Derek said. “And if you’re eating eggs naked, they’re going to fall off of your fork and into your lap and-.”

“-And we’ll have fun trying to explain why I have burns on my junk, good point,” Stiles finished.

“And my mother works at the hospital and I really wouldn’t want to bump into her there.”

“Another good point.”

Derek smiled before kissing Stiles’ tattoo once more. “Now go shower, Centurion.”

Stiles let out a laugh at that before getting off of their bed. He winced slightly when he stood up and Derek was about to voice concern when Stiles held out a hand to him. “Shut up. It was awesome and I loved it and even if it wasn’t your birthday, I still would have wanted it.”

It was hard to not remain skeptical though. Derek had lost his control a bit at the end and that rarely happened. He watched as Stiles headed into their bathroom and closed the door behind him, all while giving Derek a look that clearly said that he shouldn’t blame himself. Derek waited on the bed until he heard the shower start running.

He stood up and changed into a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants before slipping a t-shirt over his head. Derek looked in the mirror above the dresser and sighed. Thirty years-old and he had just had ridiculously mind-blowing sex that was not traditional in the slightest. And he had been the one to wear out the 23 year-old. He guessed he was doing all right.

After going to one of the spare bathrooms to brush his teeth, Derek headed downstairs to the foyer. He contemplated getting the newspaper, but decided against it. He had no problem making the long trek down the driveway, but today _was_ his birthday, so he let it go.

Derek went into the kitchen instead and started on breakfast. It was almost noon, but Derek surmised that breakfast didn’t have to be eaten in the morning, it had to be eaten whenever you woke up.

He could remember Laura waking up at two in the afternoon on Saturdays when they shared an apartment. Her hair would be tangled and messy and she would be wearing wrinkled pajamas and she would always end up making too much food and would chase Derek around the apartment and try to force feed him scrambled eggs. Sometimes he had to wonder if it was karma for all of the years he spent being an awful older brother to Scott.

Or maybe Laura just really liked being an older sister. He was never exactly sure.

And now she was a mom, and had been for five years. Amelia’s fifth birthday had been on Sunday and it had been so weird to see her with Chris and Laura. And it was also weird to see Scott and Allison with David and with Allison being pregnant again. Boyd and Erica were due in a month with twins. Jackson and Lydia had a newborn daughter named Clara.

Everyone had kids. Oh God, everyone had kids.

This definitely wasn’t recent news, but it was the first time Derek had let it sink in. He was 30 years-old and getting married next year. And that was fine. Being married to Stiles wouldn’t be any different from being partners, so he wasn’t worried about that. But Stiles had talked about kids before. He had been mentioning kids for about a year and every time he had brought it up, Derek had brushed it off.

The prospect of kids scared the shit out of Derek. He was a decent godfather and uncle, but having kids of his own? That was a different story entirely. Shaking his head, Derek tried to push all thoughts of kids from his mind.

He had just started to make a pot of coffee when his cell phone started vibrating on the kitchen island. Derek knew who it was without having to look at the caller ID.

“Hey, Laura,” he said, placing the phone between his cheek and shoulder.

“This isn’t Mom!”

Derek felt the corner of his mouth twitch up into a grin. “Oh, then who is it?”

“Guess!”

“Hm, is it Allison?”

“Nope!”

“Lydia?”

“Nope!”

“Chris?”

“You’re really bad at this, Uncle Derek,” Amelia said and Derek could practically hear the pout.

“Well, I give up,” he said. “Who is it?”

“It’s Amelia!” There was a bark in the background. “And Watson!”

“Oh, well that was my next guess,” Derek said, leaning against the island. “So, what are you two up to today?”

“We just wanted to say happy birthday!” Amelia said and Watson barked again. “And Mom says that you should know that you’re- wait, what was it, Mom?”

Derek heard Laura say something indistinct from the other line and he rolled his eyes. Leave it to Laura to get her daughter to do the dirty work for her.

“She says that you’re good for nothing and that you’re an old man now and that you need to stop pretending that your beard is attractive because it’s not and that she knows for a fact that Uncle Stiles doesn’t like it and that you’re an idiot and she loves you only sometimes and happy birthday, you big doofus.”

There was a pause.

“At least I think that’s what I supposed to say,” Amelia said. “Mom’s weird though, I like your beard and I’m sure that Uncle Stiles likes it too, because he’s gonna marry you, so he has to love everything about you.”

“Well, you can tell your mother that she’s-.”

“Oh, you are not passing messages through my daughter!” Laura said.

“I was on speaker, wasn’t I?” he asked.

“Of course you were,” Laura said. “Happy birthday, Derek. How’s the big 30 been treating you?”

“Not too bad,” Derek said, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face as he thought about earlier that morning.

“Oh, you’re disgusting,” Laura said from the other line.

“What’s disgusting, Mom?” Derek heard Amelia ask.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” Laura said. “Your Uncle Derek and Uncle Stiles are just very in love.”

“Well, aren’t you and Daddy very in love too?”

“Not as much as them,” Laura said. “Because they’re in love like rabbits and no one should be in love like rabbits… Even rabbits shouldn’t be in love like rabbits.”

Laura then went on a tangent about rabbits and love and how it wasn’t healthy and that when Amelia was older she would fully understand. Derek put his own phone on speaker and placed it on the island as he continued with breakfast.

When Laura finished her rant, the eggs where almost done cooking and the ham had already been done for a few minutes.

“Derek?” Laura asked. “Did you hang up on me?”

“No, I’m here,” he said, seeing Stiles come walking toward him from the corner of his eye, wearing a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants with his hair damp. “But the other rabbit is here.”

“Hey Laura,” Stiles greeted, grabbing a slice of ham.

“I’m on speaker, aren’t I?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“All right, I’ll leave you two to your domesticity,” she said. “Have a great birthday, Derek.”

“Thanks, I’ll call you later.”

“Bye.”

Derek hung up and stirred the eggs again. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek, placing his chin on Derek’s shoulder and slipping his hands under his shirt.

“Smells good,” Stiles said.

“It’ll be ready in a minute,” Derek said. “Did you have a good shower?”

“Yeah,” Stiles shrugged. “It would have been a lot faster if you had helped out.”

“Then who would have made you breakfast?”

“I could have made breakfast,” Stiles said. “I was going to make you breakfast.”

“Stiles, it’s fine,” Derek said. “I like cooking for you, even on my birthday.”

“All right,” Stiles said, stepping back from Derek. “I’ll get the newspaper, make me a plate.”

Stiles pressed a kiss to Derek’s cheek before heading out of the kitchen. Derek heard the front door open and close as he took the skillet of eggs off of the stove and placed it on a trivet. He was taking two plates from a cabinet when his phone started vibrating again.

Derek groaned, placing the plates on the counter before grabbing the phone again. “Hello?”

“Happy birfday, Unca’ Derek!”

“Thank you, David,” Derek said, unable to stop another smile.

There was some shuffling from the other line and then Allison came on. “Hey, he wanted to be the first person to tell you. After Stiles I’m guessing.”

“Amelia and Laura beat you to it,” Derek said, putting the phone on speaker once again so he could start putting food on plates.

“Well, maybe next year,” Allison said. “So, happy birthday and here’s Scott.”

Once again there was more shuffling and Derek heard Scott complaining from the other line.

“I’m trying to put together this shelf, Allison.”

“You were supposed to do that last week.”

“Yeah and I’m doing it now.”

“Just take a break and wish your brother a happy birthday.”

“Fine,” Scott groaned, his voice then coming in more clearly. “Hey bro, happy birthday.”

“Wow, Scott, don’t strain yourself with all of that excitement,” Derek said, evening up the eggs. “And why aren’t you at work?”

“I’m home for lunch,” Scott said. “Oh no, David, don’t eat Daddy’s screw. You don’t need that, buddy.”

“Having difficulties?” Derek asked.

“No,” Scott said quickly. “David just wanted one of these screws and I got it from him. No big deal.”

“You’re an A+ father, Scott.”

“Yeah, well I do my best.”

There was a long pause and Derek was about to say goodbye and hang up when Stiles came through the front door. “So, I was thinking that after we eat we can have round two of birthday sex on the back porch-.”

“Oh God, you two are disgusting!” Scott shouted from the other line.

“Scott called?” Stiles asked, placing the newspaper on the island. “Hey buddy!”

“You are not my buddy when you’re talking about having sex with my brother.”

“Seriously Scott?” Stiles asked. “Derek and I have been together for years.”

“Yeah and you’ve been having eye-sex for longer than that,” Scott snorted.

“Then what’s the problem?” Stiles questioned, placing his hands on the edge of the island where the phone was sitting.

“I know you two have sex, but I don’t want to know _about_ you two having sex.”

Derek came up behind Stiles and placed his hands on Stiles’ hips before mouthing at his neck. Stiles stiffened up slightly before relaxing into his touch, bringing a hand up to cover one of Derek’s.

“All through high school I had to listen to you go on and on about having sex with Allison,” Stiles said, tilting his head to the side to give Derek better access.

“Yeah, but Allison isn’t your sister.”

“It feels like she is.”

“Well, it does now, but back in high school it didn’t.”

“Are you seriously undermining the feelings I had for Allison back in high school?” Stiles asked.

Derek snorted, grabbing the bottom of Stiles’ shirt before tugging it over his head.

“No, but it is different,” Scott said. “Besides, you weren’t getting any in high school and you said that you were forced to live vicariously through me.”

Stiles looked back at Derek and gave him a nervous smile and a shrug. “I was only telling you that so that you’d think I was still crazy about Lydia. I had no interest in having sex with a chick.”

“Dude, I don’t care that you’re gay,” Scott said. “And if you had dated some other guy I would have dutifully listened to you talking about sex. But it’s Derek.”

“Whatever, man,” Stiles said. “Those days are over anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Scott said. “But, I still don’t want to know about you two having sex.”

“Will do, my- _fuck_ , Derek!”

When Stiles turned around, Derek just shrugged, acting like he hadn’t just given Stiles a sharp slap on his ass.

“Wait, are you two doing it right now?” Scott’s voice asked, sounding panicked and disgusted. “Oh, God, you two are such assholes. I’m hanging up. Have a good birthday, Derek.”

“Thanks, bro,” Derek said even though Scott had already hung up.

Stiles just looked at Derek, shaking his head. “You’re crazy.”

“I try,” Derek shrugged. “So, breakfast?”

“Oh, fuck breakfast,” Stiles said, before grabbing Derek’s face in his hands and bringing their mouths together.

Derek instantly responded, pressing Stiles against the island and-

The doorbell rang.

They broke apart, looking at each other, and then toward the foyer. Everyone who would visit them would either barge in or use their key. No one came by to sell anything since the house was so far out and the driveway was so long.

The only people who did come out there were the mailman and the newspaper carrier. And they gave them gift cards every Christmas for making the longer drive, so they weren’t even strangers anymore.

“Should we open it?” Stiles asked.

The doorbell rang again.

“The kitchen lights are on, they know we’re in here,” Derek said.

“Maybe escaping out of the back is the best option.”

“Stiles, we’re not going to escape.”

“It could be a crazy killer.”

“Or it could be the UPS guy.”

“Have you ordered any packages?”

“Just yours.”

“It’s good to see that you’re not above making jokes in these types of situations,” Stiles said, bending down to grab his discarded shirt from the floor and slipping it over his head. “I’ll get it.”

“No, I’m getting it,” Derek said, walking out of the kitchen and toward the foyer.

“Don’t get killed,” Stiles said from the kitchen.

The doorbell rang again just as Derek was opening the front door. A man was standing on the porch, probably in his late 40s with dark hair that was streaked with gray and tired green eyes and sharp features and-.

“No,” Derek said, shaking his head. “No, fuck you.”

“Derek-,” the man started.

“No, leave,” Derek repeated. “Leave my property and leave this town and don’t you even think of going to see my mother or my brother, you sick-.”

“Let me-.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

And with that Derek was slamming the door closed and locking it. He turned around and pressed his back against the door before sliding down, putting his face in his hands. An instant later, arms were wrapping around him and he leaned into Stiles.

“Derek, was that-?”

“James McHale,” Derek choked out. “My father.”

Stiles didn’t say anything and Derek was ridiculously grateful for that. He didn’t want to think or talk or do anything. All he wanted to do was be held by Stiles and try to forget about all of the memories that were coming back to him.

**OoOoOoO**

When Derek woke up it was dark outside judging by the window. He groaned and looked around to get a sense of his surroundings. He was in bed and Stiles’ bedside lamp was on and the clock said that it was 10 PM and had he really slept through his entire birthday?

“Hey,” Stiles said.

Derek looked up to notice that his head was resting on Stiles’ chest and that Stiles was running a hand through his hair.

“You scared me,” Stiles said, leaning over to place the book he had been reading on his nightstand.

 _Beloved_ by Toni Morrison. Derek always knew that Stiles had liked that book.

“I slept through my entire birthday,” Derek said, pressing his face against Stiles’ chest.

“It’s fine,” Stiles said, both arms coming around to envelop Derek in a hug. “Do you even remember what happened?”

He remembered a bit. He remembered his father and Stiles holding him and the rest was blurry.

“Not really.”

“Well, uh, your dad showed up and you kind of…” Stiles trailed off. “Derek, you scared the hell out of me. You were shaking and you wouldn’t talk and then I realized that you were having a panic attack- I used to get them all the time after my mom died. I just- I’ve never seen you like that before, but you calmed down after a while and I was able to get you upstairs to sleep and… yeah.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Don’t, Derek,” Stiles said, cupping Derek’s cheek and bringing his face up to look at him. “Don’t apologize for that. I’m just happy that you’re okay.”

He was so far from okay though.

“Did you call my mom and Scott and-.”

“Yeah, I called my dad and he said he would tell Melissa and Scott,” Stiles said. “They know, don’t worry. You know that my dad is going to keep them safe, nothing’s going to happen to them. I just want to focus on you right now.”

That was what Derek didn’t want to do. He wanted to see his mom and be held by her like a little kid. He wanted to protect his little brother. He didn’t want to focus on his own problems, he wanted to protect his family.

“I know that you actually got to know your dad before he left unlike Scott,” Stiles said. “Did he ever… do anything to you?”

Stiles was using his Comforting Teacher Voice on him. Derek knew that he was just trying to help, that he was just trying to help make things better. But some things just never got better.

“I don’t want to talk about me,” Derek said. “I just want to make sure that my mom and Scott and Allison and David are all okay.”

Derek sat up and looked around the room before seeing his phone on the dresser. He got out of bed and picked it up and tried to turn it on.

“I killed your battery playing Angry Birds,” Stiles said. “That game never gets old.”

“Let me use yours,” Derek said.

“Nope,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “And you are in no state to drive.”

“Then drive me.”

“No,” Stiles said. “Derek, I don’t know what you think your father is going to do, but I don’t think he’s going to get violent. I think he just wants to talk-.”

“That man doesn’t talk,” Derek said, now pacing back and forth in front of the bed. “He gets drunk and he gets angry and he shouts and then he just fucking leaves like we’re nothing. He leaves on my little brother’s birthday and he comes back more than 21 fucking years later on mine and he just wants to talk. What the fuck does he want to talk about?

“Does he want to talk about how he hit my mother? Does he want to talk about how he hit me and called me a worthless piece of shit? Does he want to talk about how he looked at Scott, my baby brother who was just two years-old, like he didn’t want him? How he just ignored Scott completely? How Scott would cry and cry and I had to take care of him when Mom wasn’t home?

“You don’t get it, Stiles. Your parents love you. Your father loves you. Aria loved you so fucking much. You have always been loved by everyone. I was hated by my father, he told me that he hated me. I was a kid and some days he would take me out to baseball games and help me with my homework and some days he would be telling me how much he hated me.

“And then after he left, everyone started comparing me to him. I have his looks and his temper and I would get so angry. I would yell at Scott and laugh at him and push him around and blame him for everything that I could. And Mom would just tell him that I’m ‘just like my father’. Sometimes she would look at me like she was looking at him. Like she was looking at the man who had left her with two kids and who had hurt her so much. I’ve had people come up to me on the streets before and ask me if I’m James McHale’s son. Strangers would tell me how much I’m like him.

“Do you have any idea what that’s like?” Derek asked. “To be compared to the one person who has really, truly hurt me? Because Kate screwed me over, but what she did was nothing compared to what he did. Because after her I would just find any random person to fuck, but I can’t find another father. I only have one and I’m stuck with him.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look at Stiles. Because he knew that Stiles wasn’t looking at him with disgust or pity, he was looking at him with hurt. He was hurting and it was all Derek’s fault.

“I’ll go sleep in the guest room,” Derek said, keeping his eyes on the floor as he headed toward the door.

“No,” Stiles said. “Derek, come here.”

Derek leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Stiles, I can’t-.”

“Please, Derek,” Stiles said.

Stiles wasn’t hurting because of him. He was hurting for him. And Derek still didn’t understand how Stiles could do that.

“Derek,” Stiles said once more.

And Derek went to him. He slipped under the sheets next to him and let Stiles cradle his face in his hands and wipe away his tears and when had he even started crying? It didn’t matter though, because Stiles was pressing their foreheads together and looking right into his eyes.

“I love you,” he said. “I am so incredibly and completely in love with you. And I could never love a man like your father, so don’t think for a second that you are like him. You look like him, sure, but that’s it. Derek, you have never hurt Amelia or David. They love you and you are so good to them. And, fuck, you’re so good to me. You have always done what you thought was right and even if you screw up, you always try to fix it and make it better.

“Derek, I never want to see you hurt or upset and today I saw way too much of that. I never want anything to happen to you, I can’t imagine anything happening to you.”

Bringing a hand up to cup Stiles’ cheek, Derek brushed the pad of his thumb against his skin. “How did I get you?”

“Because there was never anyone else for me,” Stiles said as if he had been waiting to give that reply his entire life.

**OoOoOoO**

The next morning Stiles called his dad and was ready to tell him to get James McHale to leave town, when Derek took the phone from him. Stiles raised his eyebrows at him, but Derek just shrugged as he held the phone up to his ear.

“John?” he asked.

“Yeah, Derek?” the Sheriff said from the other line, sounding tired and frustrated.

“Is my mom there?”

John didn’t say anything else and a few seconds later, Melissa was talking to him. “Sweetie, what is it?”

“Do you want to see him?”

“No,” she said automatically. “No, I never want to see or talk to that man again. Derek why are you asking- no. No, Derek you are not going to talk to him.”

“Do you know where he’s staying?”

“Derek, don’t you dare- John, don’t you take this phone away from-.”

“He’s staying at the motel across the street from the pizza place,” John said. “I can’t stop you from going, Derek, but I’m advising against it.”

“Just give me one hour before you make him leave,” Derek said. “I just need- hell, I don’t know what I need.”

There was silence from the other line before Derek heard a heavy sigh. “Don’t go alone.”

“I won’t,” Derek lied.

“One hour, Derek.”

“I know.”

He hung up and handed the phone back to Stiles who was already shaking his head. “You are not going to see him.”

“Stiles, I am 30 years-old,” Derek said. “I am going to talk to my father and try to understand why he came here and then I’m going to make sure that he never comes back. That’s it. I’ll probably be back in less than an hour.”

“Derek-.”

“Just give me this, Stiles,” Derek said.

Stiles held his stare for a few long seconds before shaking his head. “Fine. Be careful.”

“I will,” Derek said, kissing Stiles before grabbing his keys and wallet and heading outside.

He barely remembered the drive to the motel or asking the clerk at the front desk for James McHale’s room. He just remembered standing in front of the motel room door and knocking.

Derek remembered knocking and then the door opening and there he was. He was Derek’s height and he was tired and sad and pathetic and Derek didn’t know why he was so afraid of him.

“I just want to ask you some questions and then you’re leaving,” Derek said, making his way past James and into the motel room.

“Okay,” James said, closing the door behind him and joining Derek in the room.

James sat on the edge of the bed and motioned next to him, but Derek just shook his head. There was no way he was going to let this man think that they were on even ground.

“You look good,” James said, nodding his head. “Healthy, in shape, you look good. You’re 30 now, right? Yesterday was your-.”

“Don’t,” Derek said. “Don’t waste my time by pretending that you actually care. You came to Beacon Hills for a reason and I want to know why.”

James nodded again, looking down at his hands.

“I was thinking a lot about your mom,” James said. “Thinking about how much I ruined everything. Thinking about how much I missed her. Then I started thinking about you and Scott. I did some research and found the website for your architect business. So, I got in my car and-.”

“No,” Derek said, shaking his head. “You didn’t come because you were feeling sentimental. You want something.”

“I don’t want any-.”

“Yes, you do,” Derek cut in. “It’s money, isn’t it? You weren’t thinking about us, you heard about me from someone, didn’t you? So, you looked me up online and you saw the big house that I live in and you assumed that your eldest son would be stupid enough to give you money.”

He didn’t say anything. James just continued to look at his hands before looking up at Derek and shrugging. “How’s your brother?”

“You don’t deserve to know anything about Scott,” Derek said. “Or me. Or Mom.”

A pregnant pause hung in the air and James seemed to be deciding if he should look away from Derek or not. He made his decision by staring at Derek’s forehead.

“How much do you want?” Derek asked, taking his wallet out of his back pocket.

James licked his lips, all attention now on the wallet in Derek’s hands. “About five grand.”

“Fine,” Derek said, taking out the blank check he had brought along with him and filling it out.

He gave it to James when he was done. And then he just looked at him. Because there were so many things he wanted to say. He wanted to yell at him and hit him and hurt him just as much as he had hurt Derek and Melissa and Scott.

“You’re pathetic,” Derek decided on. “And I never want to see you again. And I never want you to come anywhere near my family again.”

“Done,” James said, pocketing the check.

Derek gave a final nod before heading toward the hotel door.

“You’re getting married, aren’t you?” James asked. “To a man?”

This really was the last thing Derek needed. Those homophobic parents that Stiles had had to deal with the other day had been enough.

“Yes,” Derek said.

“Thinking about starting a family?”

He had no fucking clue.

“Maybe.”

“Well, don’t do what I did.”

Derek turned around at that to get one final look at the man who so many people had compared him to.

“I’m nothing like you.”

**OoOoOoO**

He was in the Camaro driving away from the motel when he called Stiles, putting the phone on speaker and dropping it in the passenger’s seat.

“Derek?” Stiles said, picking up on the first ring. “What happened? Are you-?”

“I’m fine,” Derek said. “I wrote him a check for five thousand dollars.”

There was silence from the other line.

“Stiles?” Derek said. “Are you still-?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Stiles said. “Will it get him to leave?”

“He’s gone.”

“Then we’ll talk about it when you get home.”

“I’ll be there later tonight,” Derek said. “I need to see Scott.”

“Okay,” Stiles said. “I’ll be waiting.”

Derek parked the car in the driveway of Scott’s two-story, white picket fence house. And he wasn’t even kidding. Scott’s life was literally living the American Dream and Derek wanted to protect that for him.

He got out of the car and walked up to the house. Scott opened the door before he could even knock and Derek just wrapped his arms around his little brother.

“I’m sorry for everything that I did to you,” Derek said.

“Shut up, asshole,” Scott said, hugging Derek back. “It’s fine. It’s all fine.”

And it was.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't even know what to say about this one. I'm not completely sure if I like it or not, but it's finished, so I posted it.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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